


Fragile

by bluefallenfandomwallflowers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: :(, Angst, Coda, Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), Sorry im late, This might be shit but it still made me feel something so, lol, today really sucks though so hopefully this revives some of my soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9815432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluefallenfandomwallflowers/pseuds/bluefallenfandomwallflowers
Summary: "I will not apologize for loving you, Dean Winchester.""So don't."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys...
> 
> I'm a little late to the rodeo, but i was left without wifi for a few days and today a family member passed away and it really fucking sucks.
> 
> But, i needed to just finally post this and then go be with my family and mourn.
> 
> And i do apologize, because I don't know how good this is. It sucks to me, but maybe it'll make someone happy. :) 
> 
> Enjoy <3

It hits him brutally, a swift knock against his chest that makes his blood turn sluggish, his skin prickling with an underlying cold he can’t get rid of.

Cas could have been lost forever.

He could have crumbled away into nothing and Dean would be left in the same dead end that he had been trying to escape.

But there were so many paths and he was afraid to take them.

“You tried to hook me up with the waitress,” Cas states quietly over a cup of scalding coffee, eyes slightly shut as his lips quirk up. But his tone still reveals the hint of the sadness hidden behind the joke and Dean feels like an asshole.

He supposes he could have lightened up over that whole issue, but in order to justify his brooding jealously, it had to be done.

Now, of course, it seems silly.

And Cas is giving him a look, the edge of his mug scraping across the counter. “Did you really want me to be with her, Dean?”

He opens his mouth but nothing can come out because then he would tell the truth and…

“Of course not… I was just, ya know, joking.”

“Joking.”

“Yeah. You know.”

“Why?”

“Um. Hmm?”

“Why would you have been joking?”

“I…” Dean’s heart is still leaping. Cas is here with him and it’s stupid.

It’s like nothing has changed and they’re still dipping their toes in the water like cowards, like the past night had just been a mere hunt, a blip on the screen.

“Because I was jealous.”

Cas raises his eyebrows, but it wasn’t really that big of a question was it? Dean’s so transparent, it’s hilarious.

“And?”

Dean rises, fingertips fanning out on the counter. “You fucking know. God, Cas, you- you almost died tonight. I almost lost you and we’re talking about _this_.”

“We always do. It’s always the same, Dean…” Cas shakes his head, glancing away at the wall with displeasure.

It’s awkward for a moment and Dean thinks about leaving. But that’s also something he tends to do in these situations.

They get close and then one of them scurries away before anything gets scary and unforgettable and the whole process starts back over, a never ending cycle where the clothes are bare from being rinsed so many times and it is wearing Dean thin.

Too thin. To the point of loosening the threads completely.

“I thought _this_ was what you wanted.” Cas’ voice is small.

“Maybe… Maybe I don’t.”

“You’ve said that before.”

Yeah, he had.

When Cas was working at that damn gas station and the hunt was over and after Dean wrapped up his hand he finished what Cas had started before the supposed date, and all the buttons were off and he almost believed.

And then he left.

They never talk about it. Only getting close enough to feel the heat of the flames before pulling back.

He’s so afraid of getting burnt, even now.

His chest hurts as Cas rids of the remaining liquid in his cup and heads past him without so much as a brush of their shoulders or a knock of fingers and then disappears.

Dean’s hands clench together so tight his fingernails leave indents in his palms, bleeding and making him grit his teeth.

_I love you._

With a heady exhale, he heads off and somehow reaches Cas’ door without spontaneously combusting. He doesn’t even knock, just whips open the door, and Cas is standing in front of the mirror looking at his stomach, his shirt lifted up.

He doesn’t flinch, instead his eyes moving up to match Dean’s in the mirror, expression blank.

“Yes?” He grumbles, shirt dropping.

“You almost fucking _died_ out there,” Dean hisses, thumb jabbing backwards.

“Yes.” Cas nods his head nonchalantly. “And I meant everything I said. And I’m not going to take it back.”

He bites his lips and turns away. “Man, I don’t want you to take it back.”

Cas moves behind him and he wishes for just a slight touch, but the bedframe creaks and he tightens. All he can feel right now is the ache of a loss that didn’t come, and it scares him, because Cas is right here behind him and he still has the urge to scream.

“What do you want, Dean?”

_You,_ he wants to say, but he can’t. Not… not right now.

Instead, he turns and their eyes meet. It drawls, and his heart seems to stop beating.

“I love you too, Cas,” he says, voice unwavering, firm, better than the strike of fear racing through him. “You know that at least.”

Cas’ face switches to one of surprise, maybe a bit fearful. But he looks away. “I… No. I didn’t know that.”

He laughs humorlessly. “Don’t play coy. Don’t- Don’t make this into nothing.”

“I’m not, Dean,” he says, a bit harsh. Dean flinches. “I don’t need your pity. I don’t need a lie that will pass away during the night. I don’t need a… false hope.”

“Cas…” His throat closes and the words are punched back into him and he bites his lip.

“I will not apologize for loving you, Dean Winchester,” Cas says with a shake of his head, eyes open and revealing, hand closing on his thigh. “I just won’t.”

“So don’t,” Dean cries out, shaking, sweating. He stumbles forward and grips the edge of the bed, so close. “Cas, I’m not playing games here. I can’t. Not after seeing you that way. Fuck.” His head dips and he stares at the covers, untouched. Perfectly tucked under the mattress. Hot tears slips past the barrier he set forth, but it’s coming down in one big swoop, crumbling every layer away.

“I do, Cas.” His voice is breaking away with the rest of him. “I love you so goddamn much it _hurts_. I can’t--” He has to breath for a second. Everything had been set up in such a way that this wouldn’t happen. They wouldn’t say these things, wouldn’t reveal the truth. Perfect to the outsiders, rocking on the inside where only they could see, and yet they still let the tower topple back and forth, trying to set it up in an order that would never make sense.

_It doesn’t make sense, it never will if they keep this up._

“I can’t see you like that again,” he finishes, looking up with teary eyes into the worried expression on Cas’ face.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says, truthful. Nothing but genuine apology behind it. It wasn’t his fault, it never is.

Another laugh that has no meaning behind it follows. “You don’t have to be.”

More silence collapses around them and Dean wipes the tears away slowly with his knuckles, sniffing. But he sways when Cas rises steadily, hands open, fingers hiding part of the palms that face him.

“I can’t promise that I won’t get hurt in the future,” Cas responds with a softer tone, one that handles Dean carefully; he’s a package marked fragile. “I can’t promise that I won’t die, because nobody can predict that. Especially not us.”

Finally, _finally_ , a cool hand that sends a calm vibration through him slides around his neck, cupping the back of his neck. Another cradling his jaw. “But I can promise that no matter what happens, no matter what you say, I will always love you.”

Dean’s head nods on its own accord, and then suddenly he’s pulling Cas close and practically falling into him with a sort of sob. “Don’t think that I don’t love you,” he whispers fiercely. “I do. So don’t you act like what I feel isn’t real.”

It’s painless as Cas wraps Dean up within him, smaller in size, bigger in the magnitude in which he loves. Maybe they're sort of equal in that department, and it gives him a happy feeling. Dean is just a searching soul being comforted by the familiarity of a lost home and it feels so nice. He’s supposed to be here, in these arms, with these lips kissing his forehead, in love with this fallen angel.

Cas’ hand closes around his wrist and their lips meet languidly, warm and needy, but slow.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cas informs him, embracing him even tighter.

And yeah, those walls are finally tumbling down.


End file.
